


Better With You

by fatale



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - High School, Alternate Universe - No Hale Fire, Alternate Universe - No Werewolves, Evil Genius Stiles, M/M, Prank Wars, Shy Nerd Derek, Slow Build
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-01-26
Updated: 2014-02-02
Packaged: 2018-01-10 04:03:26
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 10,465
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1154658
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/fatale/pseuds/fatale
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Derek is the runt of the litter - a lowly freshman twerp in a family of gorgeous Amazons. He likes to read, has a gift for languages, and a nervous apprehension of everything that high school has to offer. When smug, sarcastic sophomore Stiles Stilinski (say that three times fast) nearly runs him down on the first day of school, it is just the spark of enmity that will affect the rest of their high school years together.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Can't Change What's Coming

**Part 1: Freshman Year - Pranks and Hatred**  

"Aww, c'mon moppet.  It's just a building." 

The way that Beacon Hills High loomed above them, Derek wasn't so sure. It was easy enough for Laura to say. She'd spent the summer regaling him with high school horror stories.  Stories about lacrosse dicks who roamed the halls like a pack of alpha werewolves, pillaging everything in their path.  Mean girl zombie hordes who followed in their wake, weaving their aroma of disdain and decay everywhere they went.  Psychotic teachers just _looking_ for a reason to flunk students, and bloodthirsty administrators who openly fantasized about shoving knives into their teenage charges.

No, there was _nothing_ to be worried about at all.  Derek stared apprehensively up at the building in front of them.  Laura was a junior, she had everything figured out already.  She ran Track and decimated the competition in Debate club, and had been Class President three years in a row.  She knew who she was, and she was completely comfortable with herself.

Derek, on the other hand, didn't have a clue.  He'd spent the summer agonizing about whether or not to sign up for football, only to second guess himself at the last minute and skip the tryouts.  Now it was too late.  Any of the freshman who'd tried out would walk in their first day with a ready made group of friends.  They'd know where to sit in the cafeteria, they already knew who they'd partner up with in Biology, they had it figured out, too.

_What's wrong with me?_ he wondered. He didn't normally get anxious like this. But now he couldn't even figure out what to wear on his first day.  Okay, yes, he over-analyzed things sometimes. But his mom said that was something to be proud of. ”I see too many people who don't do _enough_ thinking about their actions," she said. She always compared him to Garrett, his eldest brother.  He was at MIT, a fact that he never let anyone forget.  He had barely been in his dorm for an hour before the signature on his email was changed to 'Sent from the Massachusetts Institute of Technology.'

"I'm not scared," he lied.  And then, irritated, added, "And don't call me moppet.  I don't want anyone hearing you."

Laura smiled her indulgent, big sister smile.  The one that she gave their mom when she was instructed to take _and_ return her younger brother every day from school.  Otherwise, she could kiss her car privileges goodbye. "They're gonna give you a nickname at some point, little bro.  At least moppet is cute."  She took a minute to check her makeup in the rear view mirror, then climbed out from the Camaro. It had been Uncle Peter's castoff, but had barely cooled off before Laura commandeered it.

Derek, reluctantly, followed a few seconds later. 

It wasn't like Derek was completely friendless. He'd been friends with Boyd since the sixth grade when he moved to Beacon Hills to come live with his grandmother.  And Isaac was still sort of a friend, right?  Just because they hadn't talked much over the summer didn't mean anything.  Right?

"There she is!"  Lydia sauntered up from behind the Camaro, her friend Danny in tow.  Danny was her ex's friend, who had graduated the year before and promptly dumped her.  Somehow, in the divorce, Lydia had gotten custody of Danny, despite the fact that he and the Ex had been best friends since they were in diapers. 

Lydia was Laura's BFF: best frenemy forever.  Their friendship was the legendary coupling of two alpha females who spent the majority of their freshman year systematically trying to eradicate the other from the face of the earth.  Somehow, amidst all their clawing and scheming, a friendship actually developed.  No two friends were closer, or fought with such epic Defcon Five level hazards. 

"Oh," Lydia added, sounding suddenly disappointed.  "You brought the moppet."

Derek _lunged_ for his sister.  This was _exactly_ what he was talking about.  Danny covered his mouth with his hand, but Laura looked suddenly, and shockingly, abashed. 

"Don't," she said with a shake of her head.  " _Derek_ is nervous enough as it is."

Did she really have to tell everyone that he was nervous?  Was that really any of their business?  Lydia shrugged, already bored with the conversation.  She waved away Laura's concern and immediately forgot about Derek's entire existence.  Which was exactly how he liked Lydia most of the time.  "Whatever.  Anyway, there's a new girl.  Mr. Flutie said that you were here when she came in to get her schedule and everything?  Tell me everything: is she pretty?  Pretty like Danielle Arbor or pretty like she shops at Sears?  I heard she's a gymnast.  Is she looking to upstage the rest of the cheer squad?"

Laura laughed, the way she always did with Lydia.  She was the only person who didn't seem to be afraid of her, well, other than Danny.  "Allison.  Sophomore.  And I don't think she's the cheerleading type.  But you'll like her.  I already told her she could join us for lunch."

"Without Lydia's approval first?" Danny raised a skeptical eyebrow, and winced when Lydia turned her she-devil powers on him.  "Kidding!"

"Well," Lydia said, turning back to Laura.  There was a moment where she let the word hang in the air, like she was sizing Laura up all over again, deciding whether or not to continue their arrangement.  "I suppose you have good taste.  _Some_ of the time."

"If I were a more spiteful person, I'd point out that _your_ good taste is currently shaming his family name at Yale," Laura replied coolly.

Derek was frozen in place, scared of what might happen if either one of them realized he was still there.  Danny looked like he'd realized the same thing, because he was similarly as still.  The only thing more dangerous than getting on either Laura or Lydia's bad side was getting between _both_ of their bad sides.  Derek's dad was obsessed with Shark Week every year, and Derek had seen enough to know what happened  when there was blood in the water.

"Hmm."  Lydia canted her head to one side.  "I got Danny and he got...carpal tunnel.  Yeah, I'm okay with that trade."

Laura laughed, and just like that, the tension between the two of them faded.  She started to walk off with her friends before stopping abruptly, like she just remembered.  "Der, you know where you're going, right?"

He nodded.  First period Biology. Lab partners.  Dissecting stuff.  Laura's worry changed to relief, and she nodded.  "You'll be fine," she lied.  Like she hadn't just spent the last three months actively trying to make him terrified for his life.  "I'll meet you back here after school, okay?  Text me if you find a club or something you want to check out."

"I will," he said.  Though he doubted it.  If he wasn't going to be a jock, then he had to pick his after school activities very carefully.  What he joined would immediately tarnish his reputation for the next four years.  His entire high school career hinged upon what happened to him in the next five days. So for the thousandth time, he started planning. Which clubs he could deal with, and which ones he wanted to avoid like the plague.

He was so busy going through the clubs that Laura had told him the school had, along with their reputations that he wasn't paying attention to where he was going.  (Not that he entirely believed Laura - he'd looked up the list of clubs on the school's website and then interrogated both his sister and their older brothers about what they remembered from their days in high school.)  He stepped out between two of the cars when he was nearly mowed down by a car that came _flying_ around the corner like a bat out of hell.

"Whoa!"  He jumped back out of the way as the Jeep flew through the parking lot and swerved into a spot at the end of the lane _just_ managing to cut off the silver Toyota that was coming for the spot from the opposite direction. 

It took Derek a second to realize that he'd almost been hit by a car on his first day of school.  _Before_ his first day of school!  He hadn't even made it into the building yet and the school had tried to kill him!

No, wait.  Not the school.  Some douchebag student.  The faculty had their parking lot on the other side of the building.  This was the student lot, which meant that he went to school with some psycho behind the wheel.

Derek had every intention of flipping out on the other guy...for all of the ten seconds that it took to stalk towards the Jeep.  And then just before he would have really let him have it, the Jeep's door opened, a tall kid with a buzz cut tumbled out like some sort of circus performer.

"Stiles, dude. You've only had your license for a week," his passenger complained as he climbed out.

"I know, buddy. Isn't it awesome?" Buzz cut turned a beaming, goofy smile at his friend.

"That's not what I meant?"

Derek lost his nerve.  Instead, he shifted the backpack higher up on his shoulder and continued storming past the Jeep.  He even muttered a condemning, "Dick!" under his breath as he passed.

"No harm, little man," the kid laughed.  Laughed!  Like he was _so_ much better than Derek because he had his license and a car.  Or that he didn't even care that he'd nearly committed vehicular manslaughter right in the school parking lot.

The anger stayed with him, and it was hours before he realized he wasn't as nervous anymore.

***

_Two periods down, and I haven't looked like an idiot yet._ His plan going in was simple: tow the line between being too cool to participate and too eager. The fact was that, for most subjects, Derek was an excellent student. He'd tested out of Spanish completely, and he'd always been good at memorizing facts for History. English, though, was his favorite. It was the only AP class he'd agreed to - Beacon Hills had an entire AP curriculum, but being in all those classes meant missing out on classes with the rest of his grade. He didn't want to be pigeonholed with the smart kids.

"Isaac!"

The childish delight caught Derek off guard the moment he saw his friend after a summer apart. He and Isaac had been friends all through middle school, but with Isaac shuttled back and forth between his parents' for the summer, and Derek's own tendency to stay home and read, they'd drifted a bit.

_Just relax. Pretend it's no big deal,_ he coached himself. Isaac was easy to spot in the crowded hallway - he was at least a head taller than almost everyone else in the freshman wing. Boyd was already super tall, and now Isaac, too? Did _everyone_ get a growth spurt over the summer other than Derek? How was that fair?

Isaac was surrounded by a trio of other guys, none of whom looked familiar to Derek. It took him a second to realize that two of them were identical. He'd heard there were a pair of twins on the football team.

"Who's the kid?" one of them asked with a sneer.

Isaac glanced lazily in his direction, and Derek couldn't help his tentative smile. But Isaac' s expression was blank - like he'd forgotten the years of sleepovers and hikes in the woods behind Derek's house. "I think some middle schooler got lost," Isaac said lazily.

The guys all laughed while Derek's feet turned to concrete. _Be cool. Don't let them see you get upset._ Derek schooled his face into indifference when an arm slung over his shoulder and started pulling him forward.

"Ouch. Guess little Isaac turned into a dick over the summer," Danny said casually. He led Derek around the group of guys and down the hall before his hand dropped and he patted the freshman on the shoulder. "It happens to the best of them. Jackson tried that freshman year, too."

Derek wanted to look back, to see if Isaac was really being serious or if maybe this was some kind of elaborate joke, but he forced himself not to. "So what'd you do?"

"Tossed his phone in the pool.  Couldn't fight him - if anyone damaged his face, Jackson would never forgive them. A phone can be replaced, though."

Isaac didn't have a great phone, but it was incredibly sentimental. It was his brother Camden's, passed down when Camden joined the military. All their friends had upgraded in the last two years, but not Isaac. He'd have that phone until Camden came back.

"Yeah, I don't think that's going to work," Derek said. "And he's bigger than me now. He'd probably kick my ass."

Danny looked him over briefly and then shrugged. "You never know. Sometimes, being smaller gives you the advantage. Didn't Matt or Spencer ever teach you to fight?"

Derek shook his head. "Laura was always the one roughhousing with them. The three of them liked picking on me more than wrestling."

Danny laughed. "That sounds like your sister. Did _she_ ever teach you to fight?"

"No," he replied. "She just likes to remind me how short I am." From the teasing _moppet_ to comments about how Derek was 'not tall enough to ride this ride' that morning before he tried getting into the Camaro, it was always something with her.

_That_ was the real issue at the heart of Derek's frustration.  Everyone knew the Hale's around town.  From Garrett to Spencer to Laura and even down to Cora, all of the Hale's had their mother's dark hair and their father's green eyes.  And with the exception of Derek (and Cora, who was only nine) they were all gorgeous giants.  Derek was pretty sure that Laura didn't even _get_ breakouts, her skin was flawless all the time. And Garrett and Spencer barely worked out yet they had the same muscular build as their dad. Everyone else looked like a runway model, and Derek looked more like a starving orphan out of Les Mis, shrimpy and malnourished. He was barely five-five, and that was if he wore the tennis shoes with the thick heel.

He'd tried to talk about it with his dad, but all his "everyone grows up at their own pace" BS was demolished by fifteen minutes with the last few Beacon Hills yearbooks.  Garrett was already a giant as a freshman, and no one in their right mind would compare themselves to Spencer.  Spencer was the all star athlete, he'd been born with a six pack.  Garrett was a brain, but he was a brain that liked to run and swim.  He'd gone head to head with Camden Lahey all through their senior year - it was part of the reason that Isaac and Derek had become such good friends.

"Maybe you should think about taking some martial arts or something," Danny mused. "I've got a friend who takes Tae Kwon Do downtown."

That was why he liked Danny. He was the only one who treated Derek like he was an actual person. No mockery, no shame. Danny was cool.  He was never just Laura's little brother, Danny acted like they were actually friends, too.

"Think about it," Danny said, clapping him on the back one more time. "And stop stressing about the first day. It's never as bad as you think it will be."

And in the very next period, Derek got paired with Scott McCall, and proved Danny totally wrong.

***

Derek had walked into freshman biology to find a giant sign scrawled across the blackboard - SEAT ASSIGNMENTS ARE NOT NEGOTIABLE. There was no sign of the teacher, the Mr. Harris that Laura had warned him about, but there were note cards on each one of the tables in the room. Derek had quickly scoured the room until he found his - being one of the first to arrive, at least he didn't have to be that awkward kid who had to find his chair while everyone stared at him.

"You've got to be kidding me!"

No, that luxury was reserved for his lab partner, whose offended tone caused the class to turn and stare at them both. Derek looked up at the face that had nearly been a passenger to his homicide that morning. Stiles' friend. He looked across the table at the place card. Scott McCall.

"Uhm...no offense," Scott muttered, not meeting Derek's eye.

There was a helpless sort of panic that welled up in Derek's chest, the fruition of every moment of worry he'd had all summer long. This was exactly what he didn't want to happen. Already, other kids in the class were starting to giggle, and his nerves couldn't take it anymore.

"Whatever," Derek said flippantly, his mouth moving before his brain could catch up. "Aren't you a sophomore? This is _freshman_ bio." It was the kind of remark that Laura or Spencer would have made - they were the sarcastic ones in the family. Not Derek. Derek was normally too quiet to be considered funny.

The giggles turned into full fledged laughs as Scott's face darkened so quick it was nearly purple. He slumped down on the other side of the table. Derek looked around to see people smiling at him in earnest for the first time all day. He got the head nod from a couple of kids he'd known in middle school, established jocks who already had a place in the high school hierarchy.

"McCall," a derisive voice announced from the door, "I suppose it was too much to hope that I could escape _both_ of you this year."

"Then you shouldn't have failed me last year," Scott muttered under his breath, loud enough that only Derek could hear him.

Mr. Harris strolled into the room, pinched face and constant sneer making him everything that Laura had said and more. He stopped at Derek's table, looming over Scott, who kept his head ducked down. Harris lingered there for almost a minute, as if waiting for a reply that he would actually be able to overhear.  Scott, however, wisely kept his mouth shut.

Laura had told Derek stories about how Harris _loved_ to put students in their place. He'd loved her, of course, because everyone did. But she told him stories about students who spent more time in Harris's detentions than they did out of them. He gave them so frequently, and so consistently, that the school had to require him to host his own detentions, separate from the rest of the school. Something that Harris had taken to with glee.

But Laura had also said that Harris liked students who were actually _studious._ He should be fine, she'd assured him. Plus, science had always been one of his easier subjects.

As the class continued, Derek realized that everything that Laura had prepared him for was nothing like what Harris was actually like! He seemed to have a radar for the students to target - Scott being one of his favorites. Derek got an easy question ("Oh, you're a Hale" Harris had said with as close to a smile as he could get) about kingdoms and phylums, while Scott got the follow up question ("Mr. McCall, what's the difference between _Felis rufus_ , and _Felis concolor_?").

"They're...uhm, different?" Scott's face had never really lost the red-faced embarrassment all class long. As Harris' sneer started to widen, he hastily added, "They're different animals, I mean."

"Yes," Harris replied, "I suppose a _bobcat_ and a _cougar_ are different. Maybe even as different as you and Mr. Stilinski. At least _he_ managed to pass my class."

_Dick_ , thought Derek. Scott couldn't possibly look more miserable, and Derek felt like crap that he'd inadvertently contributed to it. So he waited for class to be over before he shifted in his seat to at least make an attempt at amends. "I'm actually pretty good at science stuff," he said. "The syllabus says that there's a lot of group work in this class. So you should be okay this year."

All that got him was a heated glare, however. "You think Harris cares about that? He passed Stiles and failed me all because he could."

_Yeah, well Stiles is a dick._ But with the angry look on Scott's face, Derek decided not to press his luck. He started gathering his things, as the rest of the class has already bolted out of the room. Even Harris is already gone, leaving only Scott and him.

But by the time Derek has everything back in his bag, Scott was at the door as someone rushed in and closed the door behind him.

"Not again," Derek muttered, pointedly ignoring Stiles and his beaming idiotic face.

"Scotty, Scotty, Scotty. This is _perfect._ " Stiles was saying as Derek approached the door. "Harris has to go out for his one o'clock cigarette, so his classroom's going to be empty. Every. Day. This is genius. You couldn't have set this up better if you tried."

"You mean I couldn't have set this up better if I _failed_ ," Scott fired back. "C'mon, dude. You promised. My mom's going to lose it if Harris fails me again. I told her this year was going to be different. My dad gave her shit all summer about my grades."

"Yeah, well your dad is a dick, and if we could sneak into his office on a daily basis, we'd be torturing _him_ instead. But Harris is the only asshole in our radar. So he has to be the proxy for all the other assholes in our lives."

"Excuse me," Derek tried, but the boys were so caught up in their conversation - and in blocking the door - that they didn't even realize he was in the room.

"We gotta keep it random," Stiles continued. "Big stuff followed by a bunch of lame things. Harris will never know what's coming for him. I bet we can make him quit by the end of the year."

"I'm not okay with this," Scott replied, and thank God _one_ of them had a little common sense. Everything Derek had ever heard about Mr. Harris had him as one of the biggest hurdles to survival at Beacon Hills High, and Stiles was just going to...was just going to...

"Can I just go?" Derek interjected, just before Stiles sucked in a breathe to keep arguing.

"C'mon, Scott. Be a man. Live a little. It's just a harmless little prank."

"You want to coat his desk with honey," Scott said. "That's not harmless. That could get us suspended."

"Ahh, but you've missed the brilliance of my master plan, buddy. We're not going to _get_ caught."

"I have a class to get to," Derek said.

Stiles pulled a mason jar filled with amber honey out of his bag. "C'mon, we've got at least three more minutes before Harris finishes sucking down his nicotine for the day.  I almost got him up to two packs a day last year, there's no _way_ he'll skip his chance for a break."

"I don't know," Scott said dubiously, but his conviction was wavering. Derek had a feeling Stiles was used to talking others into doing whatever he wanted them to do. 

"Just move away from the door," he grunted, trying - and failing - to move past the two of them. They still weren't paying attention to him. It was like he'd turned completely invisible.

"It's going to be so sweet," Stiles said, finally moving away from the door as he headed for Harris' desk.

Unable to help himself, Derek turned to watch what was about to happen, the same as Scott did. Stiles sauntered towards the teacher's desk with a flail of arms and legs, prancing like some sort of strange Nutcracker doll brought to life with limbs that suddenly moved. Derek turned his head, about to ask Scott why his friend was so... _odd_ when he noticed the shape looming in the doorframe.

"Step. Away. from the desk, Mr. Stilinski," Mr. Harris snarled.

Stiles froze in place, his eyes widened and completely, irrevocably guilty. "Huh. Mr. Harris. Long time no see. I...thought you'd be out for a smoke. Y'know, sucking down a cancer stick. Getting a little puff action going. Stoking the nicotine dragon."

"I quit." Harris announced with angry eyes. "So sorry to disappoint."

"Huh," Stiles didn't look afraid at all. There was nothing but quiet contemplation on his face, as though he'd never even thought that was a possibility. Needless to say, he didn't show an ounce of remorse when he added, "I guess I should have factored for that."


	2. There's a shadow on your back and it's eating out your heart now

"I think this might be a new record," the teacher mused, tapping his finger against the lid of the honey jar. "Detentions on the first day?"

  
"Yeah, well I had to exceed last year's expectations," Stiles said breezily.

Derek was about to grab Stiles and cover his mouth until he learned how to shut up. Seriously? If he kept up with all the mocking he was going to get detention for _life._ Although that would teach him a lesson, he'd already gotten Derek wrapped up in his stupidity.

"Not just detention on the first day, but a week's worth at least. And three students all at once?" Now Harris really was smiling. It wasn't a good look on him. Some people couldn't smile without looking like a serial killer. Harris was one.

Wait...what?  He was giving _Derek_ detention, too? "But I didn't do anything. They wouldn't let me out of the classroom-" But before Derek could finish, he was interrupted. Because of course.

"Hey, I'm good for more quality time with you, Mr. H, you know it. But Scotty didn't do anything. He's on the straight and narrow, now. You've gotta see that."

"What I _see_ is your sidekick following you into your downward spiral. I thought things might actually be different this year, now that the two of you were split up, but I see we're just going to get the same trouble we had last year."

"I'm not part of this," Derek tried again. "They came in when I was trying to go and they had the door blocked."

"C'mon, Mr. Harris, I'm really trying this year. I took notes today and everything," Scott offered, pulling his notebook out of his bag like it would somehow exonerate him.

"The two of you have really become such a cliché, Mr. Stilinski. And now you're corrupting freshmen, too?" Harris tutted. "It's boring and pedestrian."

Stiles' jaw clenched. Being caught he could handle, but insulting his pranks seemed to strike a nerve. But really, _that_ was what he got upset about? Derek's academic career was...it was...

"I'M NOT WITH THEM," Derek roared abruptly, and the three others flinched, even Mr. Harris. He couldn't take it anymore. He just...couldn't. They were all standing there, talking around him. _Ignoring_ him. Everyone ignoring him. All day. Like he didn't matter anymore. He knew high school was going to be horrible, but if it was going to be like this then he was never coming back. He'd be the weird home schooled kid if he had to. He found himself panting, flushed, his skin burning up and his pulse thundering in his ears.

Stiles was the first one to recover, and Derek knew as soon as he saw that mischievous little twinkle in his eyes that it was going to be bad. "Oh, c'mon...uhm, dude." The fact that he didn't know Derek's name was both obvious and immaterial. "The cat's out of the bag now. Harris caught us. _All_ of us. He's not going to care that this was your idea."

Harris turned his back to Stiles to study Derek in depth, and Derek saw the suspicion in his eyes, but he had to hope that the teacher was smart enough not to be manipulated by Stiles. He _knew_ what Stiles was like, even after only a few minutes of knowing him, and getting other people in trouble with him was just the kind of dick move the other kid would do.

What Derek didn't count on, however, was that Harris really didn't give a crap either way. Stiles being a dick made him no less inclined to show leniency on someone else. "Two weeks," the teacher decided with a smile. "And we've got a fun little re-cataloging project in the library that will take just about that."

***

By the time Harris finally let the three of them leave - and once he did Derek deliberately walked in the opposite direction of Scott and his douchebag friend - he was already so late for his next class that it was almost pointless to show up now. Especially since everyone would be staring at him. Probably talking about him. And once the story got around school about how he'd gotten detention for going up against Harris, they'd probably never _stop_ talking about him.

Derek did the only thing he could think to do: he texted Laura _911_ and waited for her on one of the benches outside.

"What's wrong, are you okay? Did you get into a fight? Did someone try to beat you up? What happened?" Laura came flying out of the school, a stricken expression on her face.

"Worse," Derek said flatly.  "I have _detention._ "

Laura's nose wrinkled as she tried to process that. Hale children didn't _do_ detention. They were all too damned perfect.  "What? I don't understand. You're _Derek._   What the hell could you have done to get detention? Were you silently reading too loud? Did you know too many answers? What did you _do_?" 

"Stiles Stilinski."

There was an awkward pause that Derek didn't even _realize_ was an awkward pause until he rewound last part of the conversation and realized why Laura was biting down on her lip. Blood rose to his cheeks and down his back and across his chest, sweat forming on his already damp shirt. "I mean he got me detention," he corrected, scowling. "He tried pranking Mr. Harris and I got caught in the crossfire."

"Oh." Laura's eyes went out of focus as she processed what he was telling her. "Oh, moppet, you couldn't have picked some _other_ teacher to prank with your friends? I told you Harris was trouble."

" _HE'S NOT MY FRIEND AND DON'T CALL ME MOPPET!"_ Derek realized he was shouting and he turned around, shoving his hands under his armpits. His whole shirt was soaked, but the pit stains were going to be the worst. Thank god he had an extra shirt in his gym bag. 

"Tell me everything," Laura said, her tone soothing. She sounded just like their mother when she talked like that. But it worked. Derek found himself telling her everything that had happened. Starting with nearly being run over in the parking lot.

"Alright, follow me." Laura turned around and walked confidently back into the school, and Derek followed her willingly - hoping she was just going to lead him back to the Camaro and take him home - until he realized that she was leading him back to the scene of the crime. Alleged crime. Not even a crime at all, just a theoretical exercise in stupidity.

Harris was still in his classroom when Laura knocked on the door, all the confident swagger gone from her stance as she demurely peered into the room. "Mr. Harris? Can we talk to you for a minute?"

The permanent chill in Harris' personality thawed remarkably when he saw Laura, at least until he saw Derek standing in her shadow. Then his mouth tightened, but he nodded.

"Derek's really upset about what just happened, Mr. Harris. And I know I wasn't here to witness what happened, but this isn't the little brother I helped raise, y'know?"

"Be that as it may, Laura," Harris said stiffly, "Derek is his own person and he makes his own mistakes."

"Oh, come on," Laura smiled. "You _know_ my family. You're pretty much the reason Garrett decided on M.I.T., aren't you? And Spencer and I never gave you a minute of trouble."

"Spencer had his moments," Harris said dryly, but there was no derision in his voice. It was hard to hate a Hale, but Spencer especially. Everyone _loved_ Spencer. It was so obnoxious.

"Homework," Laura said flippantly. "At least he only bothered you for that one Biology class. He knew better than to waste your time."

"Get to the point, Miss Hale," Harris said, clearing his throat.

"Okay, I know that whatever happened in here _looked_ bad, but you know me. And Derek's even less trouble than I am. He'd never be involved in whatever happened here. If he got trapped in the room by those other kids, then I believe him. And it's not fair that he be punished just because he got caught up by circumstance."

Harris crossed his arms in front of him. "Oh, really?" There was none of the warmth in his expression now.

"Remember that rave last year?" Laura asked suddenly, her tone oddly flippant. "I mean, not that you'd remember it personally. But you remember everyone talking about it, right?  It was the biggest deal and no one could get tickets. Garrett's friend was selling tickets for it, but almost no one at the school could get any. I heard that was a great night. Lots of people there. Lots of craziness going on."

Harris swallowed. Derek looked between the two of them, clearly missing _something._

"Derek just wants a do-over. You know he's going to be another model Hale," Laura added. "He's probably even smarter than the rest of us."

Harris drummed his fingers on the desk, but there was a nervous tic to it now. He tried for calm, but his voice definitely had a bit of a waiver to it. "I'll look past it just this once. But the next time he so much as _breathes_ out of line he'll spend the rest of the year in detention with me."

"Scott, too," Derek said suddenly. He couldn't say why he was sticking up for the other boy. But it wasn't Scott's fault that his friend was a jerk. And he maybe felt bad about what he'd said to him at the beginning of class, and the way people _laughed._ "Scott was trying to stop him, too. We weren't involved."

Harris looked like he'd swallowed one of the frogs they were going to dissect before the semester was over. "Scott, too," he said, his tone wooden.

"You're awesome, Mr. Harris. And just think, once Derek graduates, you've got _years_ until Cora's old enough for high school." Laura almost made it sound like a threat, Derek wasn't sure how she did that. But she steered him out of the classroom after that, and before Harris could change his mind, so Derek couldn't get too mad at her.

"How did you do that?"

She poked him in the chest, her expression suddenly. "Let's be clear. That never happened. I knew nothing about any rave. We never tried to talk Harris out of detention. None of this ever happened."

And now she looked like their mother in a different way - the way Talia looked when she was about to go in for a really brutal case, and she was determined to crush the other side. 

"O-okay, Laur. Geez." He rubbed at his chest, sure that she was going to leave a bruise.

"Go change your shirt, dweeb, you reek."

***

"Dude, how'd you get out of detention with Harris?" Stiles asked, peeling off his shirt and dropping it with a thwack onto the locker room floor. He'd been almost forty minutes late to track practice, and Coach was already in an unforgiving mood this year. He'd pushed Stiles harder than everyone else, and then kept practice going for an extra half hour just because he could.

Stiles couldn't remember the last time he'd gone running. Probably the last meet of freshman year. He'd been raised on a very healthy diet of movies that taught him a simple lesson: you only run when someone is chasing you. Unless you wanted to remain in good standing on the lacrosse team, then you joined Track in the fall to keep Coach happy. So Stiles had a rude awakening when the token mile run became two, and then three.  And then he wouldn't let anyone else stop running until Stiles finished, just to push him harder.

"Don't know," Scott shrugged. A severe asthmatic growing up, the last few years had been kind to Scott physically even when they hadn't been cool on other fronts. Two years ago he never would have _dreamed_ of joining either lacrosse or track, and now he was a solid mid-lister in the long distance. They both rode the bench during lacrosse season, but at least they were _on the team._ That counted for something - and Stiles ignored the haters who pointed out that there weren't enough members for a JV squad, so everyone made varsity if they were interested.

"I'm telling you, this is the year that Harris loses it. I can feel it in my bones. You know I've got very sensitive bones."

"That's what she said," Scott snickered.

"Dude, that doesn't even make any sense." Stiles shrugged. "Whatever. Anyway, I'm serious. He just needs the right push."

Scott shrugged out of his clothes and wrapped the towel around himself as the two of them headed into the showers. Scott had his after school job with the local vet, and Stiles had to make an appearance at the police station to check in with his dad to prove that he hadn't been suspended for juvenile delinquency unbecoming of a Sheriff's kid.

Stiles was already planning the next target on Harris' back. They had a good two months before the Coach's birthday and the annual Mischief Night celebration. Two months for him to figure out all the different ways to get under Harris's skin. Scott might have given in and forgotten how much he hated Harris - but the dick failed him just because he was friends with Stiles. And also because his grades had suffered, but every _other_ teacher in the school had understood the underlying issues. They hadn't given Scott much leeway, but it had been enough to dig his head out of the sand. Except for Harris.

That was something that Stiles couldn't forgive.

He was already buzzing about ways to mess with Harris' car and that stupid bumper sticker on the back end - some Einstein quote that irritated him when he noticed the puddle of sweat pooling outside his locker.

Scott was already half dressed already, back in the jeans he'd worn all day and a tank top. His face crinkled up though, when he saw Stiles looking at him. "What's that?"

"Sweat?"

Scott shook his head. "Sweat's clear, man. Besides, you didn't sweat yourself a little lake, y'know?"  He took a step forward, a hoodie clutched between his hands like a garrote. "Isn't it a little...yellow?"

_Amber, actually._ "Oh, no," Stiles moaned, grabbing the handle of his locker and pulling back immediately, a stick substance clinging to his skin and dripping down between his fingers.

"Gross," Scott offered unhelpfully.

"No, no, no," Stiles chanted, reaching back and pulling his locker open the rest of the way. A small waterfall of honey oozed over the side of his locker, adding to the spill on the floor. His clothes were completely covered in the stuff - the running clothes he'd abandoned, and his regular clothes that he'd put in the locker. Everything was _coated_ in the stuff.

"Harris couldn't do this, right?" Stiles looked to his best friend, who had no answers for him. "I mean, he's a teacher. He can't go getting revenge like this, right?"

"It's probably the kid."

Stiles looked cluelessly at him. "The kid?"

Scott held a hand out to above the height of his belly button. "Dark haired, missed his naptime? You almost _ran him over_ this morning? Then you got him detention from Harris? He _hates_ you, dude. And he's kind of got a good reason." Scott was honest to a fault, but at least he looked a little apologetic about it.

"But he wasn't _in_ detention with Harris. It was just me."

"Then I've got no clue, Stiles." He peered around the side and his face brightened considerably. "Hey, at least _all_ your stuff isn't ruined."

Stiles turned around, following Scott's eyes. _You've got to be kidding me._ There was a garbage bag hanging from the coat hook at the top of the locker, a dangling black Hefty...almost the size and shape of the book bag he'd left in there. "So he ruined my _clothes_ in a honey bath but he wrapped my books up in a Hefty bag?"

"Maybe he doesn't want you to fail," Scott offered. "That's pretty cool."

"That is _so not cool,_ Scotty. Your lab partner is _dead._ "

***

"Derek got detention on his first day. Better watch out Mom, Little Brother is turning into a brooding badass on our hands."

"Laura, stop teasing your brother." Derek's mom chided her daughter as she began spooning vegetables onto Cora's plate. The five of them gathered around the dinner table on Mondays was one of the few traditions that hadn't skipped a beat when Garrett and Spencer went off to college. They all had such busy schedules that there were many nights when only one or two of them would be home. But Mondays were sacred. Mondays were for family.

"Who's teasing? You know he's been hinting about a leather jacket for Christmas," Laura smirked. "Don't trust him. Leather's a gateway drug. How long before he's coming in the back of a cop car?"

"That's enough, Laura," their father said absently, caught up in whatever was going on with his tablet. Derek always had a sneaking suspicion that his father's "dedication to his work" was really just a Candy Crush addiction that no one wanted to mention.

"You're awfully quiet, moppet," their mother said. Derek felt his mouth constrict down into a little ball and he pushed his plate back from him.

"Talia, love. I thought we agreed..." his father trailed off.

She sighed, smoothing a hand over her youngest daughter's hair. Cora beamed up at her mother, happily eating her macaroni and cheese while balefully shoving the green beans off to the side of her plate.

"I'm sorry, _Derek_ darling. Do you want to tell us what happened today?"

_They never treat Laura or any of the others like they're still a little kid. Just me. And Cora. And she's nine. She had another six years before she'd be in high school._ Maybe if puberty weren't such a little bitch, they'd realize that Derek was almost an adult by now. Four years of high school and he'd be gone just like Garrett and Spencer.

"It's like Laura said," he replied, challengingly. "I got detention. Mr. Harris was a total dick."

"Language, sweetheart," Talia said, though she clearly wasn't mad. "So what was Harris doing that made you decide he was so...irritating."

The flip in his mother's tactics caught him off guard, like it usually did. There was a reason why Talia Hale was such a great litigator. "He just...he was picking on this kid. My lab partner. It was frustrating. He's already judging the kid based on last year, and wouldn't give him a chance."

"So you stuck up for him and got detention?" his dad asked. "Good for you, big guy."

Derek gave Laura murder eyes when she opened her mouth, and for once, she decided not to heap gas on the fire. "He let me off with a warning," Derek finished.  Because so help him, he'd mention the rave that she didn't attend if she kept pushing him. Threats or not. "But I don't want him thinking I'm going to be a troublemaker just because I don't like him."

"That's a surprisingly mature reaction," Talia said, approving. "You had an eventful day, I take it?"

"A little stickier than I thought it would be, but I enjoyed myself," Derek admitted with a secret smile. After running it through the dishwasher, the mason jar of honey had taken up a place of honor on his desk.

***

Derek made it through the rest of the week without reprisal from Scott or Stiles. Scott had even warmed up to him a little bit, though whenever Stiles came around he still acted like Derek didn't exist.

At least until the end of the day on Friday. Derek headed to his locker before last period, hoping to drop off most of his books and pick up his Algebra book and the homework out of his binder...but his locker wasn't there.

Like, the entire thing was gone. Out of the row of ten lockers, nine were still bolted into place, but where Derek's locker had been there was just a tiny, gaping hole.

Stiles' smirking face when Derek finally found it floating in the school's pool chafed at him all weekend.

So of course, when the weather was beautiful on Monday, and Stiles left the top off of his Jeep, Derek saw his chance. He'd been hoping to sneak something out of the cafeteria - like an industrial sized crate of mashed potatoes he could poor down through the open top, but there was no dice. He looked for anything in bulk - even skipping through the boiler room looking for road salt or something particularly janitorial. Maybe whatever the sawdusty stuff was they spread on the floor when someone barfed.

Nothing. It was like the school was doing everything in its power to kill Derek's need for revenge. And then, on his way out of the basement, he saw the industrial sized Saran wrap.

***

"I love this kid," Scott beamed after school, trying to wriggle his way into the Jeep through the tiny gap in the roof.  Because of course, Scott was a child at heart, and wriggling through the tiny gap in the Jeep's roof was an adventure.

"I'm going to _end_ him," Stiles snarled, grabbing the scissor's he'd had to borrow from _Harris_ of all people, who was up front and center, sipping his coffee and basking in Stiles' misery.


	3. You'll Never Be Alone

"I hear you picked a fight with a bully."

That was how Spencer greeted him a few nights later. The second oldest of the Hale siblings, he was enrolled in his freshman year at NYU. Anyone who knew Spencer knew school wasn't his priority, but he was smart enough to get a scholarship, and living in New York was step one on his plan to become famous. He would start as a model, of course ("Obviously" he would say, gesturing to his face), while taking some film studies classes at school, and branch out into acting later.

But for all his dreams, Spencer couldn't resist picking on his younger siblings - and Laura's best defense had always been to deflect the attention on down to Derek.

Derek dropped the phone against his chest and shouted an aggrieved, "Laura!" further into the house.

She popped her head into his doorway, hair already wrapped up in a towel and face blotchy from chemicals of some kind. "What's your problem now, moppet?"

"Stop telling people that I'm being bullied _and stop calling me moppet_!"

"Ten-four, moppet," she said solemnly, before she disappeared back into the hall.

"I'm not being bullied," Derek said into the phone, aggrieved.

"Didn't say you were," Spencer said easily. "I said I heard you picked a fight with one. That's what Hales do, y'know. Ask Laura sometime about that kid that ended up with a broken nose."

"I'm not going to fight him."

Spencer laughed. "Of course not. You're not a fighter, Der. You're the smart one."

Just because Derek knew exactly how Spencer worked - about how his praise was just another way for him to charm people - didn't mean he didn't fall for it every time. Spencer needed to be the favorite sibling, and he made it easy. He was supportive, encouraging, and always interested. Just as long as the attention turned back to him eventually. "This kid was going to coat Mr. Harris's desk in honey, but he got caught and I got in trouble, too. So when he was showering after track practice, I stole the honey and poured it all over his clothes."

Hearing his brother laugh at his expoloits only emboldened Derek. "That's awesome, man," Spencer crowed. "I love it. It's all poetic and shit."

Derek grinned, dropping down onto his bed and staring up at the ceiling. "How's New York?" He knew better than to ask about school.

"Oh, man, it's so awesome. Everyone here is just so...interesting. Like everyone has their story about why they moved to the city, and their own style and look. It's crazy. I've already started hearing back from some people."

"That's awesome!"

There was an awkward silence that Derek couldn't decipher at first, so he added an enthusiastic, "I knew you were going to make it happen. Just don't forget brother, okay?"

"Forget my favorite?" Spencer laughed like the pause hadn't happened. "I'd have to be dead first."

Derek knew for a fact that he told each of them that they were his favorite. "So have you talked to Matt? He hasn't answered any of the texts I've sent him." Spencer might claim favorites, but everyone knew Matt really was. They were like twins, despite being born two years apart, so different and yet they complimented each other perfectly. Spencer was the jock and the social butterfly, Matt the cultured genius.

"Yeah, dude, he's coming up to the city in a couple of weeks. He's stressing about some big project. I'm going to take him out to all the best clubs. He's going to _hate it_."

"Sounds fun!"

"Oh, it will be. I'll take pictures!"

They talked for awhile about nothing in particular - mostly Spencer talked, and Derek listened. Spencer told him about some girl he'd met on the subway, and about a girl in his Philosophy class, a coffee shop girl and the sushi delivery girl. And about how his roommate was on an episode of Gossip Girl, and he's pretty sure he saw one of those guys from Arrow on the subway.

"Has mom mentioned how Uncle Peter is doing?" Spencer asked out of absolutely nowhere, and Derek grew still. Uncle Peter was one of those topics that they did _not_ discuss. The last time they'd seen him had been a few weeks before Spencer graduated, he'd showed up in the middle of the night and he'd gotten into a screaming match with his sister, Derek's mother.

After that, no one really talked about where he was, or what happened to him. His Camaro had sat in the driveway for weeks before Mom gave Laura permission to start taking it to school. Laura had basically laid claim to it, and since she both needed a car and the boys were off at college, Talia had finally agreed.

All of them _wanted_ to ask - Uncle Peter was way younger than their mom, and more like an awesome older brother than an uncle - but every time one of them started hinting at it, they saw their mom's Prosecutor face.  Besides, Peter was always gallivanting off on some adventure - he'd backpacked in Europe four times, and spent nearly a year in South America. So for him to run off wasn't unusual. The fight with his sister, though, was.

"She hasn't said anything," Derek said quietly. "Do you think something's wrong?"

"I don't know," Spencer said, which was a lie, because Spencer knew _everything._ And if he was asking, he was worried.

"Do...do you want me to ask Mom?" Because Derek wouldn't do it on his own, but if Spencer wanted him to, he would.

"No, bud, I'm sure it's fine. Just keep an ear out, yeah?"

Derek squirmed on the bed, the dark worry clenching in his chest. He pushed it down, trying to sound as easygoing as Spencer did. "So tell me more about that girl." Which spirals into an hour of Spencer regaling him with stories of every girl he's met in New York.  And he never actually says _I miss you_ to him, but they both hear it anyway.

***

Another  couple of weeks went by without reprisal. Derek was constantly on his guard, waiting for Stiles to retaliate because he _knew_ it was coming.

So far, it was a miracle that they hadn't been hauled down to the principal's office yet. Even one of their pranks was enough to get them suspended so hard their _children's_ GPAs would never recover. The Monday after his locker disappeared, he'd helped Scott cram for the Bio quiz, and the two of them had the highest grades in the class. The next day he'd come in, and his locker was exactly where it was supposed to be - lined up in a row with the others (if still a little damp in the corners).

Derek had never reported the disappearance, and he didn't know if anyone else had, but no one ever asked him about it. And then everything was back where it was supposed to be, so he never questioned it. But he had to wonder about the shoulder clap he'd gotten from his lab partner that day.

He couldn't say for certain that Scott was some kind of good Samaritan - because in truth he never managed to _stop_ Stiles from his next hideous idea - but Scott always had a reassuring smile the morning after the latest prank had gone awry.

Which led him to Biology, and the gauntlet thrown down. Derek had been in a rush that morning, throwing his books into his bag without really paying attention. It had been weeks the last round of pranks, so his guard was down.

"Sup, man," Scott greeted when Derek sat down, but his head was glued to his phone. Derek almost reminded him of Harris' insanity about cell phones, but first he caught sight of his textbook as it slid from his bag.

"What the hell? This isn't mine?"

Scott glanced over at him in confusion. "Looks like yours."

The textbook _looked_ like his, definitely. It had the same cover, was approximately the same size and shape. In every way it was the textbook that Derek had signed for at the beginning of the school year.

Except it was written in Japanese.

"Really?" Derek snapped, grabbing the book and shoving it towards Scott's face. "Read chapter 3 and tell me it's just like my book."

It took remarkably little for Scott to realize what was happening - but there was enough initial confusion that Derek realized Scott didn't know this was coming. Stiles had kept his best friend out of the loop - probably exactly for this reason.

"Whatever," Derek grunted, "I still have my notes. Thank god I read ahead over the weekend."

Scott's confusion gave way to a smile and a shake of the head. "You know you don't have to read ahead just because of me." Derek spent as much time working with Scott to make sure they were on the same page that reading ahead had just made it all easier. If he already knew what they were going to talk about, he could help Scott work through it.

"I like reading ahead." Wait, he was getting off track. This wasn't about reading ahead. This was about his book being...manhandled. Translated. Mantranslated.

He grabbed the blue notebook out of his bag, and flipped it open angrily. "I hate him. I hate him. I hate him _so much._ " The notebook, aside from the part where BIOLOGY was written in marker across the front, had been expertly duplicated as well. Every page was filled with kanji, the only parts identical were the doodles and drawings and handouts that Harris had given them, and Derek had later pasted into his notebook. But even the drawings were labeled in Japenese.

"Can't you just look at the pictures?" Scott asked.

Derek gritted his teeth. "The notes in the diagrams are in Japanese, too. I don't read Japanese!"

"I do," a girl supplied helpfully as she was passing by.  "What do you need?" She was strikingly pretty, and Derek saw the way Scott's eyes lit up as she passed. He snatched the notebook out of Derek's hands and held it out to her like an offering.

"Here, Kira," he said, and then blushed. "I mean, you're Kira, right? That's your name? Because if that's not your name I totally didn't mean to call you Kira."

The awkward and adorable was really irritating. Derek huffed as the two of them forgot him entirely. "No, it's fine, I'll get by without."

Scott nodded absently, though he didn't look away from the girl. "Awesome, dude."

Maybe Scott wasn't such a good Samaritan after all.

***

"I'm worried about Derek," Laura offered, running her straw around the perimeter of her shake, stirring it endlessly.  She hadn't even sipped it yet. Danny and Lydia sat on the other side of the booth, Danny with a plate in front of him, and Lydia helping herself to his fries. They'd headed to the next town over for a concert, and Laura was just grateful that her curfew wasn't until one. Dancing that long had worked up an appetite.

"He's just trying to figure out his place," Danny replied, swatting at Lydia's hand as he grabbed a fry. "The last thing he needs is you hovering over him."

"I don't _hover._ "

Lydia's smile was indulgent. "Of course you don't, sweetie. Tell us again about how you got Derek out of detention?"

"That wasn't hovering! That was making sure he didn't get screwed over by that _kid._ "

"Speaking of," Danny said with a nod across the room. Laura looked over her shoulder, and saw a pair of boys sitting at the diner counter. At her glance, the gawky one on the left flinched and flailed his way back around, trying to pretend like he wasn't staring at them.

"Derek can do better," Lydia offered through pursed lips. "Wait, which one are we talking about?"

"C'mon, Lydia. You know who we're talking about," Danny replied. " _Stiles_?" Her blank look didn't clear up so he added, "The Sheriff's kid?"

"His dad's the Sheriff?" Laura snagged a fry and Danny huffed out a breath. "Is that how he's still in school? I would have thought he'd be suspended by now."

"He's not that bad," Danny said easily, and then his expression stilled and got serious. "And if you ever repeat that, I'm telling your Mom about what you did after the rave we never speak of."

Just for that, Laura grabbed a handful of fries and dumped them on her plate. Lydia shrugged, and started snagging fries from _her_ instead.

"You know him?" Laura asked, glancing over again at Stiles and the other one. They were horribly obvious in their attempts at watching Laura and her friends. Every time she turned, they flailed back around. Well, at least Stiles did.

"He's on the lacrosse team. Loosely, I guess. But I think Coach likes him. He only picks on the kids he likes. Other than Greenburg."

  
"Everyone hates Greenburg," Lydia said. "You just can't help it."

The boys at the counter were in the process of paying - Laura saw the other one pull a handful of coins out of one pocket and she winced. Poor waitress. That didn't bode well for her tip. Well, she and Laura would have to make up for it. Danny paid for the tickets, so they were treating him.

"Still, Derek's becoming obsessed with one upping him. They have this little prank war going on. He's going to get himself kicked out of school if he's not careful."

"No, he's not," Danny said. There was a confidence to the way he said it that raised Laura's suspicions.

"What did you do?"

He didn't even bother to feign innocence. "Nothing really. I just had some friends keep the school from getting too suspicious."

"They're not your friends. They're freshmen," Lydia said airily. "It makes it sound noble when it's really not."

Laura crinkled her nose. "Are you roping the freshmen into being your interns again? Didn't anyone learn last year what a bad idea that was?"

"I'm captain of the lacrosse team," Danny said with a shrug. "Coach listens to me. I can't help it if that's why people want to be my friend."

"And if you get first dibs at the new boys in school, then all the better?" Lydia asked.

"Gross." Danny grabbed a fry off Laura's plate. "I'm not you, trolling around for fresh meat. I wouldn't date anyone still in high school."

Lydia shrugged, then focused on Laura. "Maybe Stiles just needs to start making better friends. I could introduce him to Erica."

_Because Lydia's little freshman protégé would be any better than one of Danny's "interns."_ "I'm not trying to find my little brother a hook up."

"Good," Danny muttered under his breath. Laura shot him a look but continued, "And don't tell me that Erica would be anything more than that. You and I both know she's boy crazy."

"If I told her Derek was off limits, but could use a friend, she'd listen," Lydia said. "Everyone listens to me."

"Because we're all sick of listening to you scream when you don't get your way." Danny nodded his head towards the counter again, and Laura turned in time to see Stiles and his friend heading for the door.

"Hey. Uhm, hey Lydia, how's it going. You're looking..." he started to trail off as Lydia pursed her lips and turned towards her phone on the table, giving him the cold shoulder, "...like you're not interested. Awesome. Good talk. See you around."  The dismissal was noted, but it was clear that Stiles didn't let it crush his spirits at all.

"He has a thing for you?" Laura asked, once the boys climbed into a ratty blue Jeep.

"Lydia thinks _everyone_ has a thing for her," Danny interjected quickly, before Lydia could respond.

"Empirical evidence suggests it's true," she said, after taking a moment to shoot Danny a poisonous look. "Jealous, much?"

"For the last time, I was _not_ in love with Jackson. No matter how much you and he wanted me to be!"

 "The lady doth protest..." but she smiled.

Laura watched the Jeep pull out of the parking lot, her mind turning.

**Author's Note:**

> So I started writing another fic! The last one I wrote was pretty dark and angsty, so I'm trying for some good old fashioned Idiot Boys That Love to Hate Each Other fic. Also, I have a [Tumblr](http://ohfatale.tumblr.com/), if you want to follow me. :)


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